Star Fox: Exile
by NothingExtra
Summary: James McCloud, after having disappeared for years, returns to a very changed place. The Star Fox Team has been disbanded, but not before it suffered a tragic loss. Grieving, and seeking answers for why he disappeared, James sets out one more time to find those who've wronged him, his friends, and his family. Sequel to The Big Bust. Rise and Shine, Jim. On hiatus, for now.
1. Rise and Shine

Rise and Shine, Jim.

* * *

"Is he up?" A thin, nasal voice asked.

"I think so, yeah. _Look,_ " A high pitched chirping voice spoke.

"Eyelids are moving. Yep. Yeah, he's up. Quick, call the doc," a low rumble came from the other side. Some light footsteps could be heard tapping away into the distance, slamming a door right behind them.

"Holy crap, holy crap, _hoooly_ -crap!"

"Willie! Put the damn camera away, you'll scare hi-"

 ** _POP!_**

The red fox felt his eyes snap open. He felt a shock, an involuntary tic triggered by the noise, that made his muscles contract and his body sit bolt upright. With a single, fluid jerk, his whole upper body rose off of the bed as his eyes widened for a split second.

"Oh! Oh, my goodness!" shouted a shocked voice, and James' eyes snapped to see the speaker.

He saw a great white bird, in a blue nurse's gown, wings over her beak. Her eyes were wide, and she stared back at James.

James, staring back, felt a small breeze ripple his fur. Looking down, he saw that he wore a patient's gown, complete with polka-dots.

" _What-_?" his voice croaked, as he tried to speak. He stared, his eyes snapping from one feature of the room to another: the IV drip, the curtains on the wall, the television in the upper corner.

Seeing the people, he looked at each of their faces. He saw the pale bird, and beside her was a young, brown male rat, camera in hand. Next to him was a tall dalmatian, in a dark maroon uniform highlighted with gold. The dalmatian had an angry look, and was glaring at the rat.

"Its you, its _really_ you!" The rat had an open-mouthed smile, showing his buck teeth, and brought his camera to his face again.

The dalmatian snatched the camera, pulled the rat in close, and muttered something into his ear, growling each word. After he let go the rat froze in place, nodded a little, and then went to the door. Turning back to look at the fox, he stopped, and then continued out the door, closing it.

The dalmatian, reaching up to take off his cap, pulled up a chair by the fox's bed.

"Well, hm. This wasn't... _well_ ," He scratched his ears, shaking his head.

"this wasn't expected at _all_. I mean," He pressed his tongue into his cheek and looked up at James, who was narrowing his eyes back at the dog.

"Huh?"

"Well, let me just cut to the chase- _do you, know_ _who_ you are?" The dalmatian held the cap over his knees, focusing his eyes on the fox's face.

A pause. The fox gave him a deadpan look, squinting his eyes back at the dalmatian, "Is this a trick question?"

The doors opened one more time, this time, with another officer in a dark maroon uniform. A doberman, motioning for the dalmatian to leave the room, leaned in through the doorway. The same motion was made at the white nurse.

One by one, they left, each giving a quick glance behind behind them at the red fox on the bed. Shutting the door, some faint voices were heard through the wall.

"Holy Christ, its _him_."

"It looks like it, yeah."

The fox got off his bed, stepping onto the cold floor with the pads of his feet. He pulled them up, shivering, but then planted both feet back on the ground again and began to walk gingerly to the door.

"God damn! We gotta tell Pepper. He needs to know this."

A small stirring of excitement came from the other side, with nurses tittering as the red fox placed his ear against the wall.

"Hey now, we only just confirmed that its the guy, not that he knows what's happened. He needs to be filled in-"

The tittering stopped. For a while no one spoke. Until one soft voice whispered,

"Damn. Who's gonna tell him?"

James froze. He leaned in a little more.

"How long's it been?"

"Dunno, years? A decade? He doesn't look a year older than thirty."

"The timing, too. _God_."

The fox's face grew puzzled.

 _-the hell does **that** mean?_

"We wait, wait for Peppy. He'll know how to talk to James."

The fox's ears flicked at the sound of his name. He tried to shake off the feeling that he had before, so he sat back down, rubbing his eyes. Blinking, his gaze traveled back up, searching the room, and settled on a digital clock with wooden paneling around its red LED lights, with the year number nestled into the side.

2099

 _Okay its still 208-wait, **what**?_

He stared at the clock, and his heart beat a little faster. Looking around further, he saw a window. He stared at his own face reflected in it for a moment, studying each detail, searching for something. His IV tube twisted uncomfortably, tugging his arm as he moved around. Stepping back, and smoothing the tube back down, he saw his own face crease with worry, then relax as he took a deep breath.

A knock came from the door.

"Can I come in?"

James' ears perked up. He turned to face the door.

Another knock, followed by the same familiar voice, but older, gruffer.

"Can I please come in?"

James opened his mouth, but then closed it. Instead, he walked forward. He placed his hand on the doorknob, slowly, and turned it.

In the hallway, with gray fur and tall, long ears, was a hare. He wore a gray flight jacket complete with a button-down shirt and long jeans.

And yet, it was still him.

The hare's eyes widened, and he froze. Seconds passed, and then his hand reached forwards slowly, inch by inch, towards James' face.

James looked back at him, staring at his old, grizzled face, and asked:

"Peppy? Peppy, what _happened_ to you?"

Peppy stopped, and for a second, his eyes watered. Then, with a great lurch, he stepped forwards, arms spread wide.

James, surprised, raised his arms up, but was greeted with a bear hug.

Peppy laughed. He hugged him tighter and he _laughed._

James asked, surprised, "What happened? _What happened?_ "

He stepped back, beaming, and with both hands on James' shoulders: "You're back from the dead, Jim! That's what happened! Ha!"

James looked at Peppy's eyes, and he saw Peppy's eyes watering. Peppy was biting his lip, and shaking his head, as he continued,

"I'm...I'm so _sorry_ , James. I didn't think..." He began, but then sniffed, standing straighter, "Well, I don't think anyone here thought they'd ever see you again."

"Why? Where was I? _Was I dead?"_

"Well, if you don't know that, then I'm not sure I know, either, Jim," Peppy was laughing, breathlessly, wiping his eyes, "All I know is, you're back! Come on, come on, grab your stuff, we gotta get you home. Riley?"

"Yes sir?" The tall, uniformed rat jogged up, speaking.

"Get the Prime Minister, let him know what's happened here, we've got news for him. Hah!"

"...Right away, sir," the rat jogged off, looking over his shoulder at James. Peppy went on, looking back at James:

"Hah, I've got an aide now, can you believe it?"

"Peppy?" James leaned forward, asking cautiously.

"Hm? Yes?" he was not as loud, but he was happy. Peppy wore a broad smile as he looked back at him.

James spoke slowly, licking his dry lips, and swallowing before he spoke, "Peppy, what happened? What...did I miss?"

Seeing James' face, Peppy's happy expression faded. James kept looking at him, frowning, but with his brow creased with concern. After a while, Peppy's smile vanished, replaced by a small grimace.

"...James," He spoke, very quietly, looking directly at his eyes. He was speaking cautiously.

"James, there are...some things that have happened, I-" Peppy stopped, and then he looked back at the rest of the group, licked his lips before speaking aloud,

"I'd like to ask everyone else to leave the room,"

The group of officers and nurses stopped, staring as they mumbled.

"Now, please," he spoke.

The group loitered for only a second longer before filing out and rounding a corner of the hallway, out of sight.

"James," Peppy looked at the wall, and took a deep breath "I think you should...you should find a spot to sit in."

James stared at him, eyes narrowed and mouth opened slightly.

"Please," he asked again, swallowing.

He sat down, slowly, as he felt his skin prickle. He could feel the premonition. He felt a slow, creeping fear crawl through him. Staring at Peppy's changed expression filled him with a penetrating cold. The kind that sank into your bones and made your blood freeze.

Peppy sat down on a chair beside him, sitting together in the hallway of a hospital. Peppy's eyes started to water again, and he stared at the wall, "James, I am so sorry."

James felt his heart sink further, and swallowed, "Peppy, what happened?"

Some seconds passed. Peppy's mouth opened and he raised a hand, palm upwards, to explain, but his hand closed, falling to his knee as he sighed, shakily. His was blinking his eyes, now reddened, as he looked back at the floor, and said again,

"I am so sorry."

"Peppy,... tell me now... _please,"_ James' expression barely changed, but the tone of his voice became shakier. An edge of dread creeped into it.

"James," Peppy looked up at James' face, then back down, biting his lip. There were tears rolling down his face.

"...it's..." Peppy started, taking a deep, shuddering breath, before he finished the sentence:

"It's Fox. He's gone."

* * *

 _A short intro chapter for my fic about James McCloud. I wanted this chapter to be emotional, but I haven't written stuff like that before. Let me know what y'all think._

 _The next chapter from me will be about Fox's story, which will take place in a different setting, place and time. i'm thinking of alternating between the projects to let me get some writing practice._

 _Edited: some word changes. Next chapter up soon._


	2. Two Funerals

Two Funerals

* * *

For the first ten seconds, James' expression didn't change.

"Fox is gone, Jim," Peppy repeated the words, looking down, fingers digging into his knees as he sat in the chair.

James kept silent, his eyes looking into the distance, past Peppy's head, straight down the hall. He started to blink, his jaw trembling.

"Jim?" Peppy looked up, speaking with a very quiet voice, made scratchy through days of mourning.

James' jaw fell, slowly. His mouth tried to form words, but nothing came out.

"Jim-?"

"I want to see him."

The words came out quickly, firmly. James' eyes looked directly at him, full of grief, and he spoke again:

"I need to see him. Wher-Where is he?"

The words sounded almost calm. Separated from the face and mouth that made them, and ignoring the single stutter, you could've been convinced that he was just asking to visit a friend.

Peppy, sat there, stunned, looking back at him. He put his hand behind his neck, shaking his head as he spoke.

"Jim-he, he _died-"_

The first sentence was almost a shout, teeth bared.

 _"_ **I know.** _Where can I see him?"_ The second sentence sounded much softer, slower.

Peppy opened his mouth to argue, but James met his gaze.

Staring back, the face of the fox was devastating. Eyes reddened, jaw trembling; but every other feature, from the steadiness of his gaze to the calm of his voice, betrayed nothing else. Crushed, but almost silent.

Peppy hesitated, with every moment searching James' face weighing his conscience down further, before he finally sighed, deeply. He stood up, speaking,

"I'll-I'll take you to where he is now. But Jim-" He grimaced.

"It's not going to help you. Or him. To see him, like that," Several pauses as Peppy swallowed. He tried to say no, but other words came out instead.

James stood back up, his expression calmed, but only slightly. He sniffed, wiping his eyes, and took another shaking breath inwards.

"Peppy? Sir!" The rat in the maroon uniform was jogging back from the other end of the hall, clothes folded over his arms.

"I've got his things, we can head out, _errrr_ " The rat looked at the fox and the hare and made an unsure noise as he noticed their expressions.

Peppy saw his face, sighed, and spoke after swallowing again, "It's fine, Riley, just-" Peppy bit his lip,

"-you don't have to worry about it." He finished.

Looking at James, then to Peppy, then back to James' crushed expression, the rat stuttered,

"Oh. Oh, this is about Fox, isn't it?" He began, his face full of concern, with sincere sadness tinging his tone.

"Riley, don't-" Peppy began, but the rat interrupted,

"Mr. McCloud, I-I know stuff looks bad, but you have to know, Fox would be _really_ proud of you-" He stepped forwards, reaching out towards James.

"Riley. _**Stop.**_ " Peppy spoke, as cold and hard as a glacier, and held up a hand in front of the rat. He looked at him with piercing eyes that told him, with every second, to shut. his. mouth.

The rat, Riley, halted mid-step, and looked at him, startled, "I, uh,"

The rat looked back at James, closed his mouth, and mumbled, "Sorry. Sorry, sir."

"Just give him his clothes, then get the car." Peppy was cold, talking to Riley, but ignoring his face.

Riley, cowed, handed the clothes over to James, slowly, as Peppy glared at him. James, not looking up but holding his hands forward, took them, speaking a quiet 'thanks'. Stepping back, Riley then ran back down the hallway, turning the corner with his long tail whipping out of sight.

Some seconds passed, then Peppy looked at James, eyes full of regret but with a calm voice:

"There's a bathroom around the corner, you can just-"

James started walking, feet tapping lightly on the ground, as he left Peppy mid-sentence. He turned the corner, ears flat, muzzle tilted down, expression darkened, and left.

Peppy watched, mouth open, as James rounded the corner, and disappeared. He shook his head, a mix of confusion and and sadness, and sat back down, burying his face in his hands.

* * *

Sitting in the nighttime darkness, the rat and two dogs waited by a pair of black sedans in front of the hospital: a squat, short, and many-windowed building colored with bricks, concrete and, on one side, an image of a great angel. It was lit up by some spotlights in the grass around it, casting a pair of bright lights onto the angel, highlighting its finely-carved features: twice as tall as a person, it wore a long flowing robe, and a pair of broad, softly feathered wings; its face had a narrow muzzle, and short, pointed ears; the rear of the robe protruded a little, suggesting a tail hidden under the carved cloth. The angel turned, looking to the side; almost running, reaching towards the doors of the hospital. Beneath the angel, colored white by the light, even in the dark, was a message:

DEATH WILL NOT PASS

written in great letters, carved deep into the stone.

The glass doors of the entrance slid open as two figures walked out, with lights from inside casting a small pool of light outside the door. The desk near the door had the white, feathered nurse, the brown dog, and a small crowd of blue-gowned nurses and white-coated doctors leaning out and over the desk top to see the pair leave.

The uniformed dalmatian, the doberman, and Riley stood by the quietly humming cars, which cast great beams of light into the darkness, lighting up the bushes at the edge of the roundabout before them. The clicking of cicadas and the trilling of crickets were the only other sounds.

One figure, the fox James, stepped towards the front door of the first black sedan. Riley stepped forward, reaching for the handle, but James opened it first as Riley flinched, stepping backwards. James sat in the car, closing the door behind him. Riley, rubbing his neck, stared helplessly at Peppy. Peppy at first gave him a hard look, then he relaxed, exhaling between his lips as he spoke:

"Listen, sorry for snapping at you. It's just this is bad - all _bad_ \- and he needs time. I shouldn't have been that angry. Just be careful about what you say around him."

"Yes, sir," Riley nodded, still looking a little uneasy as she shuffled his feet,

"I just wanted to help, sir."

"It's fine, _relax_ , you're a good kid, so don't worry about it," Peppy was calmer, and his voice was steadier, but he still had an edge of grief to his voice.

The dalmatian looked at them, then asked, "You're driving?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to him."

"Right, sir. Bentley, Riley, we're in the next car," he looked at his two companions. The doberman nodded once, then walked towards the next sedan. Riley, hesitating a little, looked back at Peppy, then followed the dogs.

Peppy opened the door of the first car, near the driver's seat, then stepped in, shutting the door behind him. The car hummed, moving forwards as it crossed the roundabout, and turned again onto the nearby highway, red tail-lights glowing in the dark. The second sedan followed shortly after, trailing it onto the asphalt that stretched into the distance.

The headlights passed over the road's surface, casting beams over the countryside as the road turned. On one side of the road the land tilted downwards, dipping into a great field of tall grass, which waved as each car passed. The headlights shone on the grass, briefly turning their color from a dark greenish-brown to a bright, pale white. One figure, a suited, bald cat, stood at the edge of the grass, holding a suitcase as his pale eyes shone in the dark. His gaze followed the sedans as they passed out of sight. Turning, and adjusting his tie, he walked into the tall grass, disappearing.

* * *

A black cat was sitting at the front desk of a dimly-lit grey office with a tiled floor. The desk, facing the front door, was surrounded by tan walls and small watercolor paintings. A rack of magazines stood near the door.

The cat wore a maroon nurse's gown, a small identification tag, and a pair of reading glasses. Next to her was a small blue mug, filled with coal-black coffee. A small lamp, the only nearby source of bright color, lit the front of her desk, lighting up a bunch of newspaper obituaries, clipped to a manila folder. Beside her, a tan, boxy computer with dim typeface cast a blue glow over one side of her body. A small black phone was plugged into the computer. Scanning the clippings, she looked at them, one by one, and each time, looked at her computer, typing with loud, ugly _clacks_ as somewhere in the distance behind her a printer hummed and beeped, spitting out copies.

With a loud, jangling series of tonal beeps, the phone rang, flashing a small red light on its edge.

The cat, blinking a little, leaned away from the newspaper cuttings and picked up the mug, draining half of it. Putting it down, she reached for the phone and picked it up. The phone's rubbery, coiling wire bouncing as she stretched it to her ear.

"Hello? This is the front desk. Hm?" The cat paused, her green eyes looking blankly at the wall before her as a faint, tinny voice spoke from it.

"Who?" She furrowed her brow.

A pause, and she went on, holding the phone to her ear as her other hand untangled the cord, "No. No, I can't say whether or not you can see that body until I get confirmation that its a relative who wants to see it."

It was a long, practiced response.

 _God, night hours are awful-_

Some words came from the phone. Her expression changed, and her voice became less formal, relaxing a bit as she tucked the phone between her head and her shoulder,

"Pep? Peppy? That you? Oh, oh, okay, we can relax that a bit."

Her expression grew somber. She remembered this guy. Another pause, and then her expression grew confused.

"What? _What?_ Wait a second, _who's_ visiting _who_?"

She narrowed her eyes, turning back to the computer, which displayed a series of gray boxes with black typeface on a solid blue background. Starting on the upper corner of the screen a single lengthy newspaper piece was taped, in parts, around the screen.

* * *

 _Name: Fox J. McCloud_

 _Age: 25_

 _Residence: N/A_

 _Birth Planet: Papetoon_

 _Date of death: 1-13-99_

 _Born in the summer of '74, in the city_

 _of Pythell-Lagoon, to James and Vixy_

 _McCloud, the kit Fox McCloud was_

 _an only child to the well-known mercenary,_

 _who would be later known for his exploits_

 _as a war hero fighting not just for his_

 _nation, but also for_ _the safety of his_

 _family._ _Growing_ _up, Fox was barely a_

 _year old when his mother, Vixy,_

 _was killed by a terrorist attack. In the_

 _years following, Fox was raised mostly by_

 _his father and a few close friends. When_

 _James disappeared on_ _Venom in the_

 _Civil War years later, Fox reactivated the_

 _Star Fox mercenary team, seeking to turn_

 _the tide of war in the system and find his_

 _father. Taking part in some of the most_

 _daring and successful raids against Venom's_

 _forces, Fox was hailed as a hero throughout-_

* * *

The obituary went on, extending the full length of the screen. The black cat kept blinking as she read it again; took off her reading glasses, wiped them on her maroon gown, and replaced them on the bridge of her muzzle, reading the paper again.

 _Fox McCloud._

"Who did you say was visiting? Which McCloud?"

 _James._

She sat there, bewildered, as she stared at the clippings. She asked again.

 _This can't be right._

"So, this is _James_ , visiting _Fox_?" She clicked on some boxes on the computer screen, bringing up several windows and a directory of files. She clicked through them, and found two other McClouds, James and Vixy, nestled amongst other McClouds. None of the others were foxes.

"Peppy, you know that he's dead, right? I'm looking at his obituary _right here_."

She was scrolling down the screen and stopped at the photo of James, complete with sunglasses. At a glance, there was almost no real physical difference between him and the image of Fox, save for the clothes and surroundings. Different expressions, too.

James stood in front of a great blue-and-white fighter sitting on a tarmac. It had a little painted image of a feral, prehistoric fox with wings painted on the side, in red. James looked at the camera, smiling broadly with his teeth showing, with the sunglasses tucked into his flight jacket. His eyes looked forward, squinting in the sun.

She remembered him. They played videos of him on the news, way back in the 80s.

 _Cocky guy, but he looked honest._

She remembered his disappearance, and grew a little queasy.

 _He didn't deserve that kind of end._

She looked at the other photo. The one of the son.

Fox's photo by contrast displayed a similar face, but everything else changed. Behind him, a great Cornerian Academy Flag stood draped, and he wore a light blue uniform complete with a cap. Fox wore a smaller, closed smile, and both his body and face turned to the side as he looked at the camera with his eyes. The green eyes were soft, sympathetic.

"Peppy, I don't know _who_ you have with you, but its not him."

The voice responded, quickly.

 _Okay, this is getting irritating-,_ she thought.

 _"_ Peppy, let it go. We've got everything arranged already-"

 **"Here he is, Claire, I'm putting him on."**

Before she could react, there was shuffling and clicking as the phone changed hands. She made an exasperated sigh, putting the phone in her hand and pulling it away from her ear and started:

"Peppy, please don't-"

 _"Hello?"_

She froze, eyes wide. Her jaw dropped. It was faint, but she could hear it.

 _"Uh, Hello?"_

Shocked, she dropped the phone.

* * *

Tap-tap-tap.

James stood, tapping a great glass door with his fist. He wore his white flight jacket over a button-down black shirt, accompanied by jeans and black, dull shoes, with their soles and laces muddied with rust-colored streaks. Peppy stood behind him, and the trio of officers stood behind Peppy. James was standing in front of the door, with the whole group standing in the open. The only light came from inside, from a nearby hallway. The night sky hung overhead, with clouds roaming above the horizon.

Whock-whock-whock.

 _James..._

The building was gray, dreary, and surrounded by pavement. Above the doors, there was a name:

MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE, 8TH DISTRICT, CORNERIA CITY.

Whock-whock- **bang**.

 _James, please..._

Peppy stood behind James, looking on as he tapped, then knocked, then pounded, on the door.

 _ **Bang-bang-BANG.**_

At the last 'bang', a stocky black cat in a maroon nurse's gown, taking strides as long as her legs would allow, approached the door from the lit hallway. A mix of suspicion, apprehension, and annoyance occupied her features. When she got to the door she pulled out a key, and, with several sidelong glances at James, she unlocked the sliding glass doors.

"Is he here?"

Claire was about to say something, curling her lips and opening her mouth, but she stopped. James looked at her, with his eyes reddened, his voice scratching, and his face pleading, and her expression softened.

"Please, is he here?"

She exhaled, and, with a little hesitation, let him in.

"Yeah, he's-he's this way."

The black cat moved back, walking towards a hallway opposite the one she came from. Before she entered, she turned back, and said:

"Wait here," she entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

James stood, staring at the door. Peppy walked up behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder, "Hold on, Jim. We're lucky I know her, and luckier still she said yes. Be patient."

James kept staring, apprehensively, and took a deep breath, saying nothing. The trio of officers stood close behind, with the dalmatian coughing into his sleeve and the doberman sniffing and wrinkling his nose. The rat, Riley, looked around, fidgeting.

The cat, Claire, came out from behind the door with a clipboard in her hand. She held it, pulling it close to her chest, and took another good look at James.

Disheveled, with his clothes ragged and his shoes muddy, he barely looked like the star pilot she saw on television. She searched his face, and her gaze settled on his eyes. Emerald green, but bloodshot, with dark circles around them. She hesitated a little, speaking,

"Mr. McCloud, what I'm going to give you is the photo that the Army took when they found him, on Titania. He was shot down. He ejected, but was shot as he parachuted down. His face is mostly intact, but please understand, _it is the only part I can show you_. Do you understand?"

With a small, halting movement, she handed the clipboard forward. James made no answer, and slowly picked it up.

Peppy held his breath. The dalmatian, leaning forward, tried to look over James' shoulder. The cat glared at him. The doberman walked around, looking at the pictures on the walls. Riley moved forward, walking up to Peppy's side.

James stared numbly at the clipboard. On it, a pile of papers sat with a single photo, face down, clipped to the top. He took a deep breath, shaking as he exhaled, eyes glued to it. Gingerly, he unclipped the photo, and dragged it to the center of the clipboard.

Another shaky breath and then, slowly, he flipped it over. The dalmatian leaned further, and Riley gingerly stepped around a little more. The cat made a sharp noise, and the dog and rat moved back, defensively.

James' face held perfectly still, with his eyes searching the picture. His mouth slowly opened, strings of spit connecting his teeth as his jaw fell and his eyes began to water. Screwing his eyes shut, he placed it back face-down.

His arms fell to his sides limply, clipboard and photo in hand. James began to shake, his face turning into a mask of pure grief: his ears drooped; his mouth opened wide in a soundless cry; his eyes, bloodshot; tears rolled down, leaving trails that wandered into his mouth; a glistening trail came from his nose, accumulating at his upper lip. He began to sob, shaking with each gasp inwards.

Peppy watched, grimacing, as he shook his head. The dalmatian shuffled backwards, awkwardly. Riley kept looking at James. The doberman, seeing the event, turned away, biting his lip.

Claire, her face softening, stepped forwards cautiously. She put an arm on James' shoulder as he stared down, crying. She came closer, searching his face, and then pulled him into a hug.

Looking past her shoulder, James slowly brought up his arms. Then, slowly, he wrapped them around Claire, hugging her tight and burying his face into her neck. He left stains on her shoulder as he moved, sobbing open-mouthed.

 _Fox is dead._

* * *

James did not talk for the ride home. The officers left, driving away in their own car. Traveling back to Corneria City in silence, he stared straight ahead as Peppy pulled into a driveway. They pulled into a tall apartment building, with its brick walls lighting up with a dusty red as the car's headlights pulled up.

Beside the brick walls were more modern structures, with some having shiny, sloping white walls and tinted windows; while still others held buildings looked almost exclusively made of glass. Everything, though, bore some sign of wear: ranging from black, streaky graffiti tags to inexplicable stains on the ground that looked too thick to be water puddles. On the sidewalk, plastic bags and paper trash swirled around around like so many tumbleweeds, their whirling shadows cast by sickly orange streetlights.

Turning into the driveway, they entered a garage, parking near the entrance. The inside looked little better, with rivulets of sludgy water trickling down the walls and pooling next to old, rusted machines. Little pipes ran across the ceiling, dripping fluids every few seconds.

Once they parked, Peppy, turning to James, spoke slowly,

"James..."

James didn't answer. He stared ahead, shoulders sagging, ears flat. Peppy, stopped, took another breath, and continued,

"James, you're going to stay here with me tonight. Is that okay?"

James said nothing. Reaching for the car door, he opened it, stepping out. Peppy, watching him, gave a grave sigh and followed him to a nearby elevator built into the concrete wall. Peppy, pressing a button, turned to James again and talked as they waited for the elevator:

"James, I need you to listen to me."

Another dead stare, straight at the elevator doors. No answer.

Peppy felt his stomach grow colder as he grew nervous. He kept going:

"James, we need to talk about this. I can only imagine what this is like for you, but we need to talk. Really talk."

The elevator rang and James walked in, saying nothing.

Peppy grew a little frustrated as he walked in after him.

 _Please, James, just talk to me. Don't do anything rash..._

The fox stood in the corner of the elevator, looking down. A small stack of empty beer cans sat, piled by the door. The walls were covered with blue tarps, held up with tape. Pressing the topmost button, Peppy turned back to James. The frustration began to etch itself onto the hare's features as he stared at him, with his voice starting to raise:

"What we're going to do is try and find out what happened. You need a good night's sleep and a hot meal. You need new clothes. Everyone who thought that you were dead is going to want to see you. Pepper, Lucy, Fara, Beltino, everybody. They're going to want to know how you are; and you need to know, they will be there to help you. You can't just shrink into your shell and hide-"

The elevator gave a small _ding_ , and the doors opened, revealing a concrete hallway, lined with pale lights. James walked out as Peppy spoke, not saying a word.

Peppy stood there, open-mouthed, as he started to get angry.

 _Is he...Is he ignoring me? Dammit James, you're not the only one mourning here._

Peppy walked quickly down the hallway after James, his brow furrowed and a scowl beginning to form. Peppy was mad. As he got close to the fox, he reached out and grabbed the sleeve of James' jacket.

The fox quickly jerked his arm away. Peppy stood there, dumbfounded, as he felt his anger boiling over. He shouted:

"Well, I'm just stunned!"

James stopped, standing still, several paces away. His head didn't turn, but Peppy continued,

"Everyone thought you were dead. Hear me? Dead."

James made no sound as Peppy kept going,

"I know that Fox is gone. I know that it's painful. You think I'm not grieving? Believe me, he was my son, too. And Vivian's. Everyone cared about him, and everyone cared about you, too."

Jame's tilted his head forwards, looking away from Peppy, and then kept walking. Peppy strode after him, almost shouting:

"When you died, all of us thought you were gone for good. We had a funeral. We mourned, we prayed, but we had given up every single ounce of hope that you were anything but dead-"

Peppy caught up to James, striding past him and standing in his way,

"Dead! We thought that one of the closest friends we ever had, had passed away forever,"

James moved right past him. Peppy began to raise his voice even louder, going after him again:

"- And we felt the same for Fox. We still feel the same for Fox, and- _will you just stop for a damned second?!_ "

James stopped again, and turned his head a little to the side, still facing away from Peppy. The hare stood in the hallway, snarling hard:

"You are not the only one mourning, here. _Fox wasn't the only one dead!_ " Peppy walked forwards, confronting the fox and raising his voice. He stared right into James' face, seeing the light in his friend's eyes extinguished, with his cheeks sunk and sallow and with every other feature wrought into a mask of utter despair:

"But you know what else? We were _wrong_ ** _,_** " Peppy's features relaxed, and his voice grew softer as he saw James looking at him with watering eyes:

Peppy stepped forward, grabbing his arms, "You were _alive_ , Jim. You _are_ alive, **"**

Peppy's voice grew even softer, as he began to tear up, "Please don't make me add _another_ funeral."

James' jaw fell a little, and his eyes widened. He saw Peppy's face, crying as the hare pulled him in, hugging him, "I _loved_ him, Jim. I love _you_ , too."

Peppy held him tight. James looked right past his shoulder, shocked. Bringing his arms up, slowly, he hugged him back, screwing his eyes shut.

After a while Peppy stepped back, sniffing and rubbing his eyes as he talked, "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled,"

Peppy coughed, looking up. James stood there, dumbstruck, and his features relaxed a little. The fox spoke, quietly:

"Peppy, I..." He looked down,

"...I shouldn't have done that. Run _off_ ," James' shoulders sagged, and his voice grew softer,

"...please forgive me, I-I just..." the last few words hung in the air.

"...you lost your son," Peppy finished for him, with his hand on James' shoulder, continuing,

"You've got every reason to grieve, but please, don't just make all the rest of us have even more reasons to grieve, too."

Peppy swallowed and put his hands back into his pockets. Eyes bloodshot, he offered a little smile: "Today, a miracle happened. My friend came _back,_ "

James looked back up, mouth still open, and with his ears raised a little. Peppy kept going, still smiling, "You came back, and I need to get you home. You need to get your life back. I'll help you, I _promise."_

Peppy put his arm on James' shoulder, and nodded forward, speaking with the smallest of smiles: "Come on, my apartment's that way."

James' ears perked up, and he closed his mouth, sniffing and shuffling his feet as Peppy pulled him by the arm, gently, towards the door.

When they reached Peppy's apartment door, the hare pulled out a card and pressed it against the handle. Beeping, a small light flashed green as the lock made a small clicking noise. James stood behind, staring at a window.

"James, in the morning, I want to talk," He turned to see the fox, who still had sallow cheeks, sunk eyes, tattered clothes, and matted fur but he was a little, if only just a little, less sad.

As Peppy opened the door, James spoke,

"Peppy, I..."

A pause.

"...thank you."

Slowly, and staggering a little he walked, James entered the apartment. Peppy, following him with his eyes, took a deep breath, smile fading a little as he bit his lip.

The hare entered after him, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Right. One of the things about this story that makes it markedly different from The Big Bust is the fact that the characters' thoughts are now written in greater detail. The other big difference is that this one is much more emotional. In some ways, I thought it was a little too emotional. I'm not sure if everyone else thinks that, so please let me know in the reviews. If something seems really-out of place or badly overdone, don't be afraid to speak up._

 _Also, I know that the sentences are all broken up, but I really couldn't imagine how to put in all the important details and actions without doing that. I'll try to reduce that in the future._

 _Big thanks to everyone who reviewed. Much appreciated._


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